Reconciliation of Mammoth Proportions
by Zoop
Summary: Part 3 of Out of All Proportions. Whenever you bring people together who have a little 'history,' what went on before is like an elephant in the room. Some really big elephants stampede into the settlement just when the Uruk-hai and their mates are getting comfortable. It's a small world, folks. *Really* small. Cover by Zoop. :)
1. Trouble in Paradise

**Welcome to the long-awaited sequel to _Hookup of Epic Proportions_!** This tale picks up right after the end of the last one. Be warned: if you weren't already aware, this installment in the series will also continue _Escaping Isengard_ (note that several names in this opening chapter were dropped like bombs in the epilogue of that story). Enjoy!

**A/N:** Timing-wise, this story begins within days of _Hookup_. Consider also that it is roughly August of 3021, Third Age.

* * *

**Trouble in Paradise**

Akhûna bolted awake, her heart hammering in her chest, breath coming in gasps. Red eyes wide, she scanned the chamber. Her body shook and sweat stood out on her skin.

There it was again: the plaintive, pain-filled cry of a _tark_, echoing through the tunnels. The sound took her back to Dol Guldur for a moment, and her gut clenched. She could barely see in the dark anymore; age had robbed her of so much more than just the ability to bear pups for her mate. Instinct and scent guided her searching hands as she clumsily fumbled about the bedding, scrabbled through the hides, looking for...

Relief flooded her when her questing fingers brushed Barash's hip. Without a word, Akhûna cleaved to his side, wrapping her arms about his squat torso. She heard his grunt as his arm encircled her, holding her close.

"Ssshh, my _sha__û__k_," he murmured. "We ain't there no more."

She took deep breaths to calm herself. It was several minutes before she regained her composure, banished the memories, and listened.

They were at it again. Shagal playing with her pet. By the sound of it, Fulak had given in and joined her. A scowl contorted the Orcess's face.

"I want that _tark_ outta my den," she growled. "She don't listen to me. You gotta be the one, Barash. Throw the baggage out, or I'm killin' your whelp and _I'm_ tossin' it out."

"She's yours too, my one," Barash pointed out, though with little conviction. "Hate to take away her favorite toy."

"Spoil her rotten, you do," Akhûna snarled, her tone softening. She idly stroked his chest, her fingers remembering the strength of his youth. Were she in a better mood, she'd read the stories etched there, every last one a tale of glory. "Always bring trouble, them _tarks_. I won't have a _baalak_ in my den," she warned.

Barash chuckled, turning his head to nuzzle her. "Won't ruin her if she whelps for that bit of shit. And I don't think you got much to worry about in any case; she starts swellin' with a pup, Fulak'll see to it."

"Only if he knows it ain't his, and I don't think he'd figure it out til it drops," Akhûna groused. "That boy lets her get away with about as much as you do, yuh weak-willed bastard."

"Our bonded mates've got us by the sack and no mistake," Barash observed sagely. As he'd intended, she chuckled and swatted his chest.

"That don't explain your whelp," she pointed out, and he shrugged.

"She was always my favorite," he replied.

"Hmph," Akhûna snorted. "Just like you, she is. I remember. Took me twenty years to get the _tark_ stink off yer todger, you sick bastard." Though her tone was harsh, her hand snaked down his stomach to fondle him gently.

"Ain't nothin' in the world I wanna stick my old fella in more'n you," Barash purred, closing his eyes and grinning drowsily.

Akhûna smiled. It never took more than a few moments to get him up, even after all these years. "Long as you ain't thinkin' of no _tark_ cunny when yer in there," she growled, rolling on top of him.

His red eyes opened to slits as she took him, and his gnarled hands worked their way into her hides, finding breasts that, in spite of the affects of age, still fulfilled his every need. "All I see is you, my beauty, my _sha__û__k_. All I feel... is you."

"Silver-tongue," Akhûna murmured, laying flat on his chest and curling her arms under his shoulders. Closing her eyes, she rested her cheek on him and drew up her knees along his sides. His arms embraced her, and he sighed contentedly. She focused all her attention on the sound of his heart and the feel of him, the scent of him, her _sha__û__k_, her own. All else drifted away like mist.

Nothing further was needed. As they often did, Akhûna and Barash pressed flesh to flesh, one inside the other, their hearts beating together as though they were one body, one mind, one spirit. So it had been for hundreds of years. If fate was kind, so it would be for hundreds more.

* * *

Shaataz scowled as the tunnels echoed with the unmistakable sounds of her sister's pleasure. "Dat be disgustin'," she growled, staring toward the entrance to the chamber she shared with her mate. Nariin sleepily rolled over and nudged up close to her, his arm draped lazily over her swollen belly.

"Don't listen," he murmured, nipping her ear. She giggled softly.

"Can't be helped," she replied. Relaxing against his chest, she sighed. "Not when she bellow loud as a mûmak."

Nariin snorted, laughing into her neck. "You ain't so quiet yourself, my gal," he purred. His hand stroked down her thigh, hoping to nudge those legs apart. He never seemed to get enough of the Orcess; he'd readily followed her into these caves and hadn't poked his head out the entrance again for over two years now. A good deal of that time was spent in her bed.

It took her awhile to fully accept him, though. Maybe she claimed him the first night they met, and he'd happily given himself to her, but he still had a time of it getting to _this_ point. A good deal of groveling at her feet, earning the approval of her sire and dam, proving his value to the clan and his prowess in all sorts of useful enterprises... It hadn't been easy.

Luckily, he was well-equipped to handle the easy part. Shaataz was as different as night and day from her sister, Shagal, except in one thing: she also enjoyed a good rut. She was just a bit more particular about who was involved. His long experience in that area ensured his success.

Now they were bonded, and still aglow with the heady feeling of it. Shaataz was close to popping with his whelp, the first one he'd actually cared to be around for. It was _theirs_; that made all the difference.

"Yuh horny as a young'un," she chuckled, playfully swatting his hand away from her sex. "Shaataz don't wanna play wit' dat business goin' on." Growling low, she muttered, "She think we don't remember dat sound. Nardrît likely in a hole, tryin' tuh hide."

Frowning, Nariin idly caressed her hip. "Was it bad there?"

She nodded slowly. "All the time, there be _tarks_ screamin' for mercy. They gettin' flayed 'n flogged, bits cut off, while they still alive. Not just the _tarks_ but them _golug-hai_ from the forest. Any that be dumb enough to wander near. Bolg be long gone, but they do his will all the same." She shuddered and pulled the furs up over her head. "Screamin' and screamin'... Yuh think yuh don't mind it so much. They's _tarks_ and all. But then they run outta _tarks_ and _golug_, and they come after _us_. Da didn't lose his leg in no fight."

"What happened?" the Orc asked quietly. His arms instinctively held her more closely, protectively.

"The _tark_ screamin' stop, and they bring him in," she whimpered, "and they torture him. They saw off his leg, real slow. Mum find it... just thrown out...and she went lookin' for the rest of him. They just... dump'im when they done. She find him and take him somewhere safe. She keep him alive." She shivered and pressed closer to Nariin's reassuring warmth. "Say you do that for me. You can't find me, you go lookin' till you do. Even if yuh gotta look for a hundred years for your Shaataz."

"I'd look for a thousand," he murmured. "My _sha__û__k_, there ain't nothing that'd keep me from your side, not even death." He nuzzled her ear, nipping affectionately. "Yer stuck with me."

The Orcess giggled again. "Rather be stuck _by_ yuh." She took his hand and held it to her heart, sighing deeply. "I be in a better mood when dat noise stop."

"All my forces are lined up, my dove," Nariin chuckled, pressing his erection to her backside for emphasis. "Just waiting for the call to arms."

She wiggled her bottom a bit, laughing more easily. "Stand ready. Shagal gotta sleep _some_ time, eh?"

* * *

The distant screams subsided into sobs, the tone pleading. Skût paused, looking up from her youngest. Zog was suckling hungrily at her breast, his small hands squeezing almost painfully. He was a good, strong lad already, and his mum was proud. Her older boy, Korb, had taken to sleeping buried in the furs to drown out the noise of that snivelling _tark_. Close to the entrance of their chamber, Gundul paced. Every now and then, he stopped to prick his ears, then huffed angrily and resumed.

"Ain't gonna go on much longer, yuh know," he growled to his mate. Nodding assuredly, he added, "Fulak'll put a stop to that shit, mark my words."

Skût, robbed of her tongue by a previous toy of her sister's, merely smacked her lips and sighed. Gundul grunted.

"_You_ know what he's thinkin'," the Orc insisted. "That little cunt's gonna spite him by bondin' to a _tark_."

Chuckling, she shook her head. Her mate sagged a little. "Yeah, that's stupid." Frowning, he went on, "Yuh know, had a peek in there the other day. I think she's usin' that _tark_ filth to get better fuckin' outta Fulak. He's 'bout killin' hisself, fuckin' the _tark _for her, fuckin' her _through_ the _tark_, fuckin' her _with_ the _tark_, fuckin' her _after_ the _tark_... Why she wanna fuck so much, eh? You ain't like that."

Glancing over his shoulder, he met her steady gaze and ducked his head sheepishly. "Yuh don't... go off on yer own or... look for nobody else or nothin'," he mumbled. Crossing his arms over his broad chest, he leaned against the rock wall. "Yer good tuh me, Skût. Wish I could... do my job better, is all."

Brow pinched sympathetically, Skût made a small whimpering noise and held her free hand out to him. Gundul sighed and went to sit by her, but couldn't look her in the eye. He let her take his hand, though.

"Guess... once in awhile... I don't do so bad, eh?" he said quietly. "Give yuh these whelps and all. So... sorta proof, ain't it? Sometimes... it works? And, uh... yuh know... maybe... sometimes yuh don't... wish yuh hadn't... just for a minute..." He chuckled bitterly. "'Bout all I'm good for... is that one... one minute, eh?"

She cupped his cheek in her palm and urged him to look at her. Tears glistened in her eyes as she drew him close and pressed her forehead to his. Purring softly, she nuzzled his cheek and ear.

"Yer a good one, Skût," he murmured thickly.

* * *

Bare feet kicking up dust in the tunnel, Kraibûf darted from one side chamber to another, peering in for a moment then moving on. Her nostrils flared as she scented the air, the rocks, the dirt... anything that might tell her where he was.

"Not again," she hissed under her breath. "No. I ain't been cursed. There ain't no trouble. He's just havin' a time of it, is all. Them berries just ain't in season. Had to go far for'em. That's all. Just real far. Then he got lost. Maybe come in the wrong way and he's lost."

She couldn't seem to reassure herself, and each chamber she visited was either empty or showed no sign of Burburûrz. He'd been gone too long for any of her ready excuses to be true.

It wasn't possible for an Orc to bond a second time, but Kraibûf almost felt as though she had. Burbur was steady and sure, and he never asked for anything. Even with her grief over the loss of Nausaar still fresh enough to make her weep in the night, Burbur never demanded she forget about her dead mate, nor did he try to distract her with coupling.

No, Burbur didn't do the sorts of things someone like Fulak might. He held her in his arms and let her grieve. He took the whelps off her hands when she needed to be alone. He pleased her when she wanted to feel _something_ that wasn't ashes and stone.

And when she mentioned a desire for elderberries, he asked no questions. He merely smiled knowingly, grabbed a sack, and went on the hunt. He hadn't come back for two days.

Fretting anxiously, Kraibûf followed the sounds of slapping hides and whimpering. She'd long figured out what to listen for that would spare her having to see one or both of them abusing the _tark_. She didn't care if she barged in on Shagal and Fulak having at each other; it was the _tark_ business that was unnatural.

The hollow the two Orcs shared was layered in furs and hides, trophies from their frequent hunting trips. In the center of the room, Fulak was giving Shagal a vigorous and rough fuck, the Orcess's legs wide and her feet waving wildly in the air.

Off in the corner was the _tark_, huddled in a ball, discarded and forgotten for the moment. Kraibûf briefly noted how he trembled, his own fresh blood streaking his thighs. Undoubtedly Fulak had a go at him before finishing things with Shagal.

"You lot seen Burbur?" she asked, her voice raised a bit so they'd hear over their own grunting and snarling.

Startled by the interruption, Shagal's attention shifted from her enjoyment to the thoroughly annoying intruder.

"Fuck off, Kraibûf!" she barked, scrabbling her claws about, hunting for something to throw.

"Only he's not been back for days," the young Orcess insisted. "You take him huntin' a lot, so I thought you might..."

"No, I ain't seen yer twat tender," Shagal snapped. "Yuh wanna get yuh some, go look fer Nardrît. He ain't doin' nothin'."

Seething, Kraibûf retorted, "It ain't fuckin' I'm after! He went off for berries, and he ain't been back. Ain'tcha even worried or nothin'?"

"_Busy here!_" Shagal roared, pointing at Fulak as though to remind Kraibûf of what she was in the midst of doing. "Weren't my job tuh keep the sod from gettin' lost or killed or... oh fuck... gah!" she cried suddenly, and dug her claws into Fulak's shoulders. Glaring intently into her lover's face, Shagal growled, "Yeah, that's good. Do it. Fuck me. Tear me wide open, yuh fucker. Gimme all yuh got."

Sweat pouring down his face and neck, Fulak grimaced and let loose a shuddering howl. He'd already come once, but long habit and simple lust for his mate kept him going into two and, on rare occasions, three completions before Shagal came for him.

He didn't even have two in him this time. With the suddenness of an explosion, Fulak's eyes popped wide at the same time that a searing pain shot through his back. He barked with surprise and collapsed on top of Shagal. The pain was so intense and hit him so hard, burning from the middle of his back straight down to his left knee, that he cried out. He gasped and whimpered, but there seemed to be no end.

And he couldn't move. Every twitch hurt. Even breathing sent a reminder coursing through his body, urging him to stay still.

"What the fuck?" Shagal snarled, mercilessly shoving him off her. She stopped pushing him when high-pitched sobbing started coming out of him. Faltering, she carefully eased herself out from under Fulak and looked him over. "Yuh all right?" she asked uncertainly.

He couldn't speak for almost a minute. Unsure what to do or even what happened, Shagal hesitantly touched his shoulder. "Fulak?" she ventured.

"C-c-can't... m-move," he breathed, his cheek pressed into the furs. "Hurts."

Eyes darting between the two, Kraibûf asked timidly, "So... you ain't seen'im?"

"_Get the fuck outta here!_" Shagal roared. The younger Orcess jumped back, then fled from the chamber. Shagal huffed furiously, staring after the infuriating Kraibûf for a moment, then turned her attention back to Fulak.

"Be still, now," she crooned, caressing his head. "Shagal's gonna see to yuh." Her brow furrowed with worry as she peered at his quivering body. There was nothing she could see that explained his state, but she knew Fulak better than any. He wouldn't fake something like this. Slowly smoothing her hand down his back, she asked, "Where's it hurt?"

"Sss-sorry," Fulak mumbled, trying to breathe and not breathe at the same time. "Meant tuh... f-finish... sorry."

"Ssshh," Shagal whispered dismissively. "Just be still, now." Forcing herself to smile, she added, "Yuh owe me, but I can wait."

Fulak snorted in disbelief, then winced as another spasm struck him. Shagal flinched along with him. "Don't you leave me, Fulak," she murmured. "Don't yuh dare."

* * *

Shivering naked in the corner, Faelur squeezed his eyes shut. He tried not to hear them. He tried not to think about anything but this brief moment of relative peace.

How much more could his body take? Would he go mad, or was he already there? When would the torment end? He had no answers, only a desperate hope for _any_ end, even a bloody one.


	2. Blackbird, Fly Into the Light

**Blackbird, Fly Into the Light of the Dark Black Night**

"I believe twenty paces square should be sufficient," the Elf observed, casting a critical eye over the clearing. His thoughts churned over yield and exposure to sun and rain, population and consumption rates. Considering more than half the residents of the settlement were unlikely to eat anything that came from this little garden, he reasoned this would do well enough to start with.

Nodding, a tall Uruk hefted an axe and set to the first tree within the boundaries indicated.

"You guys never cease to amaze me, Celduin," Sandy said, shaking her head. "It didn't even occur to me to actually plant stuff."

"It is no matter," he replied modestly. "In the coming years, there will be fewer of us traveling from the east. You will not be so well... looked after." He smiled a little too quickly.

"Well, you've been unbelievably generous this time," Sandy insisted. "I mean really, a _horse_? That must have cost you..."

"Not at all," he replied, waving away her worries. "Plowing is tedious work. It is not a large plot, but as your families grow, so too should your garden. Then that young colt will be more than able to relieve your burden."

"If the kids don't spoil the hell out of it first," Sandy muttered.

"Razkaar wonders if it can bear a rider yet," Morkoth asked between swings. He nearly had the first tree down.

"Nay, that would not be advisable," Celduin warned. "Though he appears large, it is only because of his breed. He is still too young to be safely ridden."

"I think I'll call him Mr. Ed," Sandy mused thoughtfully. Both the Elf and the Uruk looked at her oddly. She just shrugged and smiled. "So... what lovely veggies will we be planting in the spring?"

"Let me see," Celduin said, rummaging in his sack. "I have brought you leeks, cabbage, carrots, and beans. I was not sure how you would receive my suggestion, or I would have brought more."

Sandy glanced at Morkoth, who grunted and resumed his work. "Well, _some_ of us are thrilled to death about the prospect of eating something that wasn't wandering the forest ten minutes earlier."

"You have never complained before," the Uruk observed without turning. Yet he glanced over his shoulder with a twinkle in his eye. "Every bit of meat I laid before you, you put in your mouth." Landing a resounding blow to the next tree trunk in his path, he added, "Smiled and licked your lips, hopeful for another mouthful, in fact."

Cheeks as red as her hair, Sandy glowered at her mate. "Very funny," she muttered, glancing at the Elf. He, too, was a trifle embarrassed, and huffed a little to cover for it.

"Well, when the coming winter passes, and the ground is well cleared, you will need to turn the earth," Celduin instructed. "The plowshare may be harnessed to the colt in a few years, but for now, it may require one of..." He glanced carefully at the Uruk. "I suppose... Well, my friend, you and your fellows _are_ strong..."

Morkoth paused and turned. A slight smile curved his mouth, showing a hint of the sharp teeth within. "I will not have my mate killing herself to plant seeds. I will pull the plow."

"Quite so," the Elf nodded awkwardly. "Only until the colt..."

"I know," Morkoth interrupted. "I am not insulted."

"Forgive me," Celduin sighed quietly. "I have walked beneath the stars for more than a thousand years. In all that time, I have never spoken with..." He shook his head. "You make me forget what you are."

"Would it make a difference if you remembered?" Sandy asked, arching her brow.

The Elf smiled. "Indeed. I would recall the tales told of Nûrzgrat's band. I would be reminded of the King's edict and its prohibition. I would think..."

"Wait, what edict? What prohibition?" Sandy interjected.

Startled, the Elf blinked. "You are not aware? The edict was passed not long after the War's ending. Surely someone should have mentioned..."

"No, nobody said a thing," the woman said, shaking her head. "We aren't exactly sitting on a news hub here. What edict?"

"Simply put, it is a prohibition against hunting Orcs for bounty," the Elf replied. "I do not have full knowledge of the circumstances or reasons for such a law, except that within half a year of the Ring's destruction, an Orc emerged from Mordor seeking a truce with Men. An accord, if you will. King Elessar heard his words, and issued the edict."

Sandy exchanged bewildered looks with Morkoth. "You mean... nobody's out hunting Orcs anymore?"

Shifting uncomfortably, Celduin qualified, "Not... precisely. There are rogue agents, veterans of the War who disagree with the King's edict and operate in the shadows. They are not... _legally_ supported, of course. Any town or village that honors the King does not openly engage Orc hunters. But... the King's men cannot be everywhere at once."

"But... there's this _law_," Sandy said, grasping at straws. "So... if we _wanted_ to, we could... join a larger settlement or visit a village or..."

"It would not be advisable," the Elf interjected. Avoiding her eyes, and particularly those of the Uruk, he said, "You and the other women of this settlement... willingly... Well, you are with..."

Huffing with impatience, Sandy supplied, "We're having sex with Orcs. You don't have to dance around the subject; we're all adults here."

Mortified by her bluntness, Celduin had trouble speaking again. "Yes," he finally confirmed. "Quite. I... I do not believe Men are... ready to see this sort of... relationship... displayed so... openly."

"Well, shit," she groused, huffing impatiently. "When the hell _will_ Men be ready? I don't want my kid getting lynched because Joe Blow down the street thinks he looks funny."

"Perhaps Men will come to terms with such things more swiftly than you think," the Elf observed. "Men have short lives, and so their memories are also short. In time, Men will forget their enemies, or at the least, will accept their former enemies as friends. _You_ have done so, as have the other women here." Then he smiled warmly. "Do not forget, you have won the approval of the Lady herself. That is no easy feat." Glancing at the attentive Uruk, he added, "She particularly likes you, Morkoth, father of Ashmau."

Morkoth chuckled quietly and smiled.

"Suffice to say, if one of the eldest of our people finds your folk and your relations acceptable, you have leapt a mighty hurdle already," the Elf concluded. "We are not known for readily changing our opinions," he added, winking and smiling.

"Okay, so there's this law thingy," Sandy pursued doggedly, rounding on Morkoth. "Shouldn't Brytta know about it?"

The Uruk shrugged. "She has made no mention. Ask her."

"I think I will," the redhead muttered, a frown creasing her brow.

* * *

"You must have been _terrified_!" Gwen cried, her eyes wide. Brytta chuckled modestly.

"Fear is rarely acknowledged in battle," she said dismissively. "When you stand toe-to-toe with your enemy, and you see your death in his eye, you can think of nothing else than denying him your blood. Or at the very least, exacting a dear price for taking it."

"Aye," Nûrzgrat agreed, reaching up to clasp her hand. His head lay pillowed on her lap, his eyes and thoughts lazy; their fingers intertwined. "Yuh just can't. Anything else comes to mind, yuh gotta shove it aside. Ain't no room for doubts in that moment."

"If you live through it," Brytta continued, idly playing with her mate's coarse, black hair, "that is the time for fear. I have been in skirmishes that came dangerously close to my ending, but I only understood how close when it was over. _Then_ I succumbed to fear, though the thing I feared was over and done with."

Gwen sat near the couple alongside the smoking firepit, the flames burned low from the midday meal. Beside her was Thakûf, just as raptly attentive to the tales Brytta told, and the comments Nûrzgrat added. Mae sat on a nearby log, mending a shirt with Ashmau a few yards away, batting at the deer tail Ilsa dangled before him. Razkaar glanced up from his carving once in awhile to make sure his friend was doing all right, patiently awaiting any sign the little girl might be interested in playing with him again.

He wished _someone_ would. Even the new addition to the settlement seemed indifferent.

The horse was a draft animal, according to Celduin, but to Razkaar it was a new friend. His old friends seemed to have lost interest in him; maybe this new one wouldn't. Looking toward the dapple-grey animal, he narrowed his eyes. Ghru was being schooled on the finer points of grooming by the ever-patient Brianna as she rocked little Hontor in her arms.

Razkaar thought they didn't have horses where Sandy and Brie came from, but evidently the latter female had one as a child... or wanted one real bad, whichever. He had to confess losing the thread of her gushing excitement in the wake of his own thrill at being able to touch something so beautiful. Then Celduin told them a colt was less likely to have a problem with Orcs than a grown-up horse.

That pissed him off. Raz had never hurt anyone; he hadn't even learned how to hunt yet. Why wouldn't a horse like him? Maybe the Elf tried to soften the blow a bit by saying horses were often trained to hate Orcs, but he still had to admit that the scent of Orc sometimes set them off in a panic.

Razkaar resented being punished by the world for being something he couldn't help, for doing things he'd never done. It was bad enough whiteskins hated him; why did dumb animals have to hate him too?

"Hey!" Sandy barked as she returned to the center of the settlement, Celduin and Morkoth in her wake. Razkaar jerked out of his musings to focus on her. "Brytta, why didn't you tell us there's a law against hunting Orcs?"

"What the fuck?" Nûrzgrat snapped, sitting up quickly. "What're you talkin' about?"

"There's a law, apparently," Sandy said, never taking her eyes off Brytta. "Know anything about it?"

Blinking with surprise, Brytta shrugged helplessly. "Well... yes, of course I do. It is the reason I and the others stopped. Towns were no longer allowed to legally engage my group. We had to find work by other means, so we took to escorting families like Gwen's, or providing protection to merchants shipping goods..." Her gaze flicked over the many shocked faces around her. "You did not know of the law?"

"No, we didn't," Brie said. Meeting Sandy's eyes, she asked, "Does this sound familiar at all?"

The redhead shook her head. "Not a bit. Granted, I'm not all that well-read. For all I know, Orcs and Men were skipping hand-in-hand through the clover within seconds of the Ring's destruction, but I sort of doubt it." She turned to Celduin. "Excuse me, but how in the hell did this happen? And... _what_ happened?"

"I am only aware of the rumors that have come from Gondor," the Elf began. "They run from ridiculous to fantastic, with little room for facts. What is known to me, only because Elrohir and Elladan mentioned it on their last visit over a year ago, is that an Orc of some rank in the former forces of Mordor, emerged from that land in the company of a woman. They engaged Men in..."

"Hold the phone, in the company of a what?" Sandy interjected. "Back it up there, Celduin."

"A woman," the Elf repeated. "A female of the Race of Men. She speaks on his behalf among Men."

There was a pregnant pause as the residents of the settlement exchanged shocked and bewildered glances. Finally, Nûrzgrat broke the silence.

"She fuckin' him?"

Scowling with annoyance, Brytta backhanded the Uruk's chest.

"I apologize that I do not know more than this," Celduin said hastily, lest an answer to the leader's embarrassing question be required. "Regarding their... relations. Or their activities, for that matter. The debate among my folk is not whether the law is valid, only whether it should apply to _us_." He shook his head. "It is an unresolved question at present."

"Then... we can go, right?" Thakûf ventured cautiously. "Me and Gwen. See the world and such. Can we? If, you know, Men ain't huntin' us no more..."

"I wouldn't say that," Brytta replied. "Towns and villages that honor the King's law are _reluctant_ to blatantly defy it, but excuses are easily found, and justified. There is an exception that is open to broad interpretation, and that is that forces may be engaged if a threat is perceived. I'm certain the intent is that if a band of Orcs is preying on a town or its citizens, a countering force may be assembled and sent forth." Furrowing her brow, she snarled, "Berendir was our liaison for contracts, and the sort to accept a request to hunt down marauding Orcs, so-called by the town's council. More often than not, we found these 'marauders' were a bare handful, a family with young, spotted migrating north to escape Men."

"And he'd kill'em, wouldn't he?" Nûrzgrat growled low.

"Yes, he would," Brytta acknowledged stiffly. "And did. We did." Her voice diminished to a whisper. "I did." Closing her eyes and bowing her head, she went silent.

"Well, I don't like the idea," Brie said awkwardly. "I mean, we're relatively safe here, right? Nobody knows about us..."

"Elladan and Elrohir do," Sandy reminded her. "So do Galadriel and Celeborn. And Gandalf. I can't imagine they kept their mouths shut."

"You _are_ safe," Celduin insisted, his brow furrowed. "Those you mention... they have endeavored to... What little they have _said_ to any they deemed trusworthy..." He shook his head firmly. "This settlement is not widely known, nor will it be told of by any who know of it. You are safe."

Nûrzgrat eyed the _golug_ shrewdly, but kept his silence. Could just be his natural distrust, as Brytta pointed out to him when Celduin arrived that morning. 'Stop looking at him like he's going to cut your throat, Nûrzgrat,' she'd chided in an undertone, nudging his ribs with her elbow.

While he thoroughly enjoyed having a mate most of the time, there were some drawbacks. The biggest one was how well the damnable female could read his every thought, and wasn't afraid to call him out about them. He'd have liked at least a _little_ fear out of her, if only so he could peacefully enjoy murderous thoughts about the visiting _golug-hai_. It just wasn't fair.

"So... does this king person know about us?" Brie ventured.

"Indeed he does," the Elf nodded. "The sons of Elrond carried the news to him not long after they found you. It may well be that his knowledge of your folk is behind the establishment of the law. Or at least eased its passage." His brow furrowed. "But what Brytta says is true: there are some who deny Elessar's claim to the throne, and ignore the laws he passes." Gesturing to Thakûf, he added, "A youthful Orc in the company of a young lady may or may not be perceived as a situation warranting attack."

"I would simply tell whoever challenged us that we travel together as friends," Gwen shrugged. "What harm could there be in that?"

"I do not want to frighten you," Brytta said cautiously, "but there may be great harm in it." Eying the girl thoughtfully, she asked, "What would your friends from home have to say of your... friend?"

Gwen almost answered, but one glance at Thakûf's face stilled her tongue. He'd bowed his head and looked away, clearly humiliated by whatever he assumed she might have said. "They... would likely be... unkind," she said haltingly. "I see what you mean, Brytta." Rallying herself, she tried again. "But we wouldn't need to go to any towns. There is much in the wild world I wish to see. We could travel in the mountains, far from where Men have settled. That would be all right, wouldn't it?"

Her pleading gaze turned to her mother, who had stopped her sewing and was watching her daughter with concern. "I want to say no," Mae said quietly, "but... you are nearly grown and... it is more my fears for your well-being than... And... I suppose I do not want to lose you." She laughed humorlessly, and ducked her head to hide the tears welling in her eyes.

"I wouldn't let nobody hurt her," Thakûf reassured the healer. "Not Men or Orcs or nothin'. I... I can smell shit comin' at us from a fair bit off... Could avoid it... Hide or somethin'..."

"I've no doubt you would prove yourself a worthy champion to my daughter," Mae said, smiling wanly. "It is... not an easy thing, seeing your child grow beyond your reach before your eyes..." Squeezing her eyes shut, she bowed her head again.

"Mama," Gwen breathed, getting up to sit with Mae. She wrapped her arms around her mother and rested her head on Mae's shoulder. "We won't be gone forever. We'll just go out for... a fortnight. We won't go far and we'll come right back. I swear it. I just... I want to _see_ things."

"I know, dear," Mae nodded, patting her daughter's arm. "I know. It would be selfish of me to hold you back, and quite foolish to forbid it." Laughing a little, she added, "You are a stubborn girl. I've no doubt you would run off in the night if I tried."

"No I wouldn't!" Gwen cried, shaking her head. Then she paused, and tried to hide her smile. "Probably."

Taking a deep breath, Mae turned to face her daughter. "Oh... very well. You may accompany Thakûf _if the rest of the clan is in agreement_," she said, raising her voice over her daughter's excited squeals. "_Tomorrow_, though. I would rather you didn't... just run off this moment." Huffing with impatience, Gwen stilled her tongue lest a careless, petulant word ruin all.

"What do you think, guys?" Sandy asked, her gaze flicking from one Uruk to the next.

Morkoth and Nûrzgrat exchanged glances, then looked to Ghrulagûrz. "Is he ready?" Morkoth asked, his brow arched.

Ghru shrugged. "Ready as he can be. Won't know till he tries."

Nodding, Nûrzgrat reached over to grip Thakûf's shoulder. "Remember what we taught you, boy."

"I will!" Thakûf crowed eagerly, his head bobbing.

"More important, though," the leader continued, his grip turning painful. "Don't make no mention of this place to _anyone_, yuh got that? I don't care how bad they're beatin' you, don't betray us. There's little ones here. Don't say no names, either. Likely nobody knows any of us, but just to be safe... no names, all right? Names lead to questions, and questions'll get yer ass in trouble."

Wincing slightly, Thakûf nodded his understanding, and Nûrzgrat released him.

* * *

After a night of restless worry, Thakûf dithered over what clothes to pack, which knife he ought to keep on his hip as opposed to squirreled away in his pack, whether his thick blanket would fit in the bag or if he ought to just take the thinner one... Crowding those practical thoughts were panicky worries over what he'd do when alone with Gwen, what they'd talk about, if she'd let him kiss her again, how he'd keep her from hearing if he broke wind while he slept... What if he had to shit? That probably wasn't something he ought to be doing in front of her. He'd have to manage sneaking off for that sort of thing.

"Ain't fair," Razkaar grumbled, sitting petulantly on his bed with his arms crossed.

Without turning, Thakûf replied distractedly, "Don't know what you're gettin' mad about. Gotta hunt our own meat and cook it on our own. You still got the elders doin' all that for you." Pausing for a moment, he gazed off into space, eyes wide with fear. "Oh fuck. I got no idea how to cook nothin'."

"You ain't gonna be huntin'," Raz snorted caustically. "You just wanna mate with Gwen, and yuh can't do it here."

"That ain't...," Thak snarled defensively, rounding on his friend. Yet he faltered, his cheeks darkening. Huffing with embarrassment, he resumed his packing with jerking movements. "Yeah, I wanna, but I ain't gonna try. We... well, we sortuh talked about it and... she ain't... ready. Or somethin'."

Scowling, Raz growled, "Probably cause yer an Orc."

Thakûf slowly turned. "What's your problem?" he snapped. "You been a little shit to me for days, and I ain't done a fuckin' thing to you."

"Don't know what you mean," Raz muttered.

"Is it cause of me and Gwen?" Thak prodded. "Cause I thought... I mean, we ain't got much chance of findin' mates out here, and... Well, if things..." His voice faded into uncomfortable silence. He watched his dark-skinned, clawed hands twist a shirt. "In my gut, she's my mate, Raz. I like her a lot, and... I like bein' with her, just talkin' and such... but... this is different. It's sort of... I dunno... Like I ain't... _whole_... without her. Like... if somethin' happened, and she... went away or... got hurt... I can _feel_ this... this _thing_. It's..."

"Who gives a fuck?" Raz snarled. Launching himself off his bed, he stomped out of the shelter, slamming the door shut behind him.

Thakûf stared after his best friend, his mouth hanging open in shock.

* * *

"When are you due next?" Mae asked delicately. Gwen's brow furrowed.

"I... I don't know," she confessed. "The days just... I have no idea what day it is." She laughed nervously.

"Well, here," her mother said briskly. "Carry enough that you won't be left without should your moon time start while you are away." She neatly packed a handful of rags in Gwen's bag. "I know you won't be staying at inns or hostels, but if you should get lucky, I've added a small flask of soap for you."

"Thank you, Mama," Gwen said quietly, gnawing her lip.

"The nights are cold so take these woolens," Mae continued, holding the thick underclothes up briefly before placing them in the pack. "I hope you're back before the snow flies."

"It's months off yet, isn't it?" Gwen asked worriedly.

"I don't know," Mae replied. Pausing, she stared at the far wall for a moment. "Time passes so... differently here," she murmured.

"Mama?"

Shaking herself, Mae continued fitting clothing into the pack. "Don't mind me. It is a strange thing, living here. I have never been in a place so... detached from the world. In Archet, there was such attention paid to the day or the month or the year. The folk of this clan only know it has been two years since the War's end because winter has come twice since then." Chuckling, she shook her head. "I confess, it is both a relief and a worry at times. I feel I _should_ know what day it is, but I find I don't particularly care."

Gwen smiled and took her hand. "I won't be gone long, Mama. You'll hardly miss me."

Pulling her daughter into a tight embrace, Mae squeezed her eyes shut and breathed, "I shall count the days. A fortnight only. Promise?"

"Only a fortnight," Gwen reassured her. Brow furrowing, she whispered, "Mama?"

"Yes?"

"What if... Would you be angry with me if I...?"

Mae drew back, holding her daughter at arm's length and searching her face. "What is it?"

Embarrassed, Gwen's cheeks flushed brightly. "If I lay with Thakûf," she blurted. "Would you despise me?"

Smiling gently, Mae cupped her daughter's cheek. "We have talked about this before, haven't we? Of course I won't. It is your choice, dear. He is a good bo-.. a fine young man. I see great affection in his eyes when he looks at you. All I advise in this is that you be true to yourself. Be certain of your feelings for him, and don't give him something so precious until you are quite ready to part with it. There is no rushing these things."

Gwen nodded, reassured. "I do like him awfully, Mama. He... asked if I... Well, he called it mating. It's the same, isn't it?"

"Yes, I believe so," Mae said. "What did you tell him?"

Sighing, Gwen replied, "I told him I wasn't ready. He was very agreeable about it."

"As I said, he is a good man," Mae said approvingly. "And most respectful. I've no doubt he will treat you kindly on your journey."

* * *

Thakûf and Gwen stood together at the edge of the settlement, where the trees parted slightly to allow passage to the stream and beyond. They fidgeted under the advice and fussing of their elders. Both worried that if they didn't depart soon, minds would change, and they would be forbidden from going.

"Keep to the shadows," Morkoth instructed. "If you see signs of Men, travel at night. Thakûf, always wear your boots. A tracker won't know you're an Uruk if he can't see the shape of your feet."

"Aye, and make damn sure your camp's secure before you bed down," Nûrzgrat growled. "Up a tree ain't a bad option, if you can stomach it."

"Avoid badgers," Sandy advised semi-seriously. "They're pissy and don't taste all that good. And for heaven's sake, don't gut them in front of Gwen; she has issues with that."

"I'm getting better!" Gwen huffed indignantly.

"Sure you are," Sandy said indulgently, patting the girl's shoulder.

"I _am_ glad you two are going together," Brianna said feelingly. "I'll worry a lot less knowing Thakûf's around to protect you... and you're there to keep him out of trouble."

"What kinda trouble you think I'm gonna get into?" Thakûf asked with surprise.

"All sorts, if I know you," Sandy replied with a wink. Turning to Razkaar, scowling belligerantly next to her, Sandy said, "It's gonna be lonely in the hut with just Ilsa, isn't it?"

Shrugging noncommitally, the young Uruk continued to glare at Thakûf. His friend stared back at him with just as much hostility masking his face. Unsure what to do with what she was seeing flash between them, Sandy awkwardly shifted back to the matter at hand.

"You two be _very_ careful, okay?" Sandy insisted.

"Yes, do watch yourselves," Brytta agreed. "Keep your eyes and ears... and nose alert to anything and everything. And... if you can manage it, do not go south. Keep to the mountains east and north of here." She exchanged an uncomfortable, slightly embarrassed look with Nûrzgrat.

"Can we just _go_?" Thakûf asked impatiently. "Gonna lose the daylight."

"None'uh yer lip," Nûrzgrat warned. "Go on, then. Get movin'. Make sure you can find yer way back."

"Piss on trees," Ghru advised with a slight smile.

"Yeah, right," Thakûf growled as he turned, steering Gwen toward the stream.

"Stay away from caves!" Brytta called to their backs. Thakûf waved his acknowledgement without turning, and soon he and Gwen disappeared from sight.


	3. The Three Wise Me- Uruks

**The Three Wise Me-... Uruks**

"Reassure me that I did not just say my last words to her," Mae whispered, hugging herself. She could not take her eyes off the trees, though there was no one to see. Brianna put an arm around her shoulders.

"I'm sure they'll be fine," she told her. "They can't go far in only a couple of weeks, right? Come on; let's get breakfast handled." Brianna steered the worried healer toward the fire.

"Think someone oughta follow'em?" Nûrzgrat muttered to Ghru and Morkoth. He kept his voice low, his eyes flicking to Mae, his brow furrowing with concern.

"Thakûf would be insulted," Morkoth replied, shaking his head. "He knows how to hunt; I've seen to that."

"Good nose on him," Ghru added. "He knows our scents; anything he doesn't know, he'll avoid."

"Aye," Nûrzgrat nodded, slightly mollified. "Got a female to protect, though. Better not do nothin' stupid."

"It isn't him that worries me," Ghru said quietly, and his gaze shifted to Razkaar. The runt sat sullenly by the fire, tearing a stick apart and flipping the pieces into the flames. His tense posture and deliberate movements gave the impression that he was angry about something. Nodding toward Raz, Ghru said, "Brie is watching him."

"Why?" the leader asked. Now all three elder Uruks had their eyes on the younger male. Luckily, Razkaar's back was turned, and so he was unaware of their curious scrutiny.

Ghru shrugged. "I don't know. But she watches and worries. That is enough for me."

"Think he's, uh... havin' that... pubbery bullshit Thak got?" Nûrzgrat asked awkwardly.

Chuckling, Morkoth smiled. "Maybe. Look at him; have you ever seen him parted from Ilsa's side? Ever seen him here in the settlement when the sun has risen and adventure calls?"

Narrowing his eyes, Ghru glanced around. Mae and Brianna were fussing over a pot full of something at the fire; Sandy and Brytta were having a conversation. Of the younglings, Hontor was in Sandy's arms, and Ashmau... The son of Morkoth was sitting up, laughing and enjoying whatever game Ilsa was playing with him. The little girl seemed to have taken an interest in Ashmau now that he was more active.

"Ilsa plays with Ashmau," the burned Uruk observed. "She ignores Razkaar." Meeting Morkoth's eyes, he added with a slight smile, "And Thakûf plays with Gwen?"

Morkoth nodded. "No one plays with Razkaar."

Nûrzgrat darted a look between the two Uruks, his brow furrowing. "What the fuck's that supposed to mean?" he growled.

"It was the same with Frûmâdûrz," Morkoth explained, and Nûrzgrat flinched, looking away. Gentling his tone, the tall Uruk went on, "You, Ghru, and I spent much of our time with Sandy and Brianna. We learned many things. Frû would not follow our lead, and so he suffered."

"So... yer sayin'... Raz is... needin' someone? And they've all kinda run off on'im?" Nûrzgrat ventured uncertainly. The ways of younglings were difficult for him to grasp, and he looked to the fathers for their wisdom.

"That is what I think," Morkoth agreed. "Ilsa took Thakûf's place when he grew too old for play. Now Ilsa looks to my son. Who will replace her?"

Nûrzgrat eyed the boy critically. Razkaar, he'd been told, had the physical maturity of a ten or twelve-year-old whiteskin. By the Uruk's measure, the runt was just that; a _runt_. He wouldn't have been given a sword and sent into battle. Were they still in Isengard, he could have been mistaken for a Goblin by size alone, quite frankly, and ordered about, given shit jobs, beaten frequently by cruel Uruks... But that was only _if_ he could pass for a _snaga_. He had far too much Uruk about him, too much _Man_, to be mistaken for something other than what he was.

For that, he would not have been acceptable by Saruman's standards, for Saruman's purposes. He would not have lived through the first inspection by the wizard that they all endured upon waking. Razkaar, for being 'imperfect,' would have been killed long ago.

"Maybe we oughta start him, then," Nûrzgrat said thoughtfully. "Teach him the sword. Take him huntin'. He's a bit small and weak, but..." Shrugging, he ground to a halt and looked to his fellows for their thoughts.

Morkoth remained silent for a moment, considering. "With one of us beside him, he would be safe."

Ghru nodded. "He's brave. I remember."

"Aye," Nûrzgrat agreed, recalling how the little runt stood down a pack of _golug-hai_ and a wizard to protect the clan. "A brave one. Up to us to keep'im from being so brave he's stupid, eh?" he chuckled.

"Indeed," Morkoth smiled. Sighing, he added, "That is our duty, after all."

* * *

"It is a strange thing," Brytta said quietly, her eyes on the peaceful face of Hontor in Sandy's arms. The redhead gently rocked from side to side, humming a little to keep the infant soothed so far from her parents. Those big hazel eyes had wandered from Sandy to Brytta at the sound of her voice.

"What's strange?"

"How... beautiful they are." The former Orc hunter frowned uncomfortably. "I never truly _saw_ them."

"Things were different then," Sandy replied. "I got the impression from... all my sources, that Orcs aren't really considered people in the sense that you and I are." She glanced toward the males huddled together nearby and sighed. "I honestly couldn't tell you why Brianna and I felt differently, other than... well, they _acted_ like people, if that makes sense. We didn't see them in a battle or something. We saw them staggering away from a disaster area. We saw them staring down the barrel of extinction as a race." Laughing a little, she met Brytta's eyes. "Even then, they treated us with respect. They treated _you_ the same way. I'm sure that was a shocker."

"It was," Brytta agreed. "Considering all I've..." Faltering, she bowed her head. "Why can I not... forget? He has forgiven me, and I him, yet..."

"Hey," Sandy said gently, "a friend of my father's used to say, 'Shit don't stop stinkin', you just get used to the smell.'" Shrugging sheepishly, she went on, "Gross, I know. He was in the Navy. They're... a breed apart, I swear. Anyway, the point is, what you all used to do to each other was awful and terrible, and it will _always_ be awful and terrible. You just have to... keep on going, you know? It'll take time, but that's one commodity we have in abundance here."

Brytta nodded, then reached out to lightly caress Hontor's cheek. A slight smile smoothed the woman's worried face. "Her skin is not as rough as..." Swallowing, she went quiet.

"I think they get tougher as they grow," Sandy explained. "You couldn't tell the difference between his butt and his face, Ashmau's skin was so soft. Now, though... he's getting a little tougher." Giggling, she added, "I don't have to pay as close attention anymore when I'm changing his diapers in the dark."

"Was he difficult to carry?" Brytta asked, blushing at such a forward question. "I apologize if that's..."

Sandy shrugged. "No worries. A bit, yes. He was a big boy. Thank god Galadriel was here when he decided he wanted out. Apparently she knew I was about to blow baby all over the settlement by keeping an eye out in her Mirror." She laughed. "Here I thought she only got riddles and nonsense out of that thing."

"Yet she did not come when Hontor was born," Brytta said, a hint of a chill in her voice.

"On the other hand," Sandy pointed out, "if she was paying _really_ close attention, she saw Mae coming. I'd say she was saved a trip."

"Of course," Brytta conceded. Then she relaxed. "Forgive me. I do not come from a family so... well-acquainted with Elves. Their ways are difficult to fathom."

"They've been in and out of here for years like nobody's business," Sandy said. "I _still_ don't know what the hell their deal is. How they seem to know what we need all the time. It's weird. I can't imagine Galadriel is so bored in her palace or whatever that she can waste all her time watching _us_."

Brytta smiled. "I imagine, living so long as Elves are known to do, anything out of the ordinary would capture their interest. This," she said, gesturing about them, "must surely be considered 'out of the ordinary.'"

"Amen to that," Sandy laughed. A comfortable quiet passed between them for several minutes before Sandy ventured, "Would you like to hold her?"

"Oh, I couldn't," Brytta demurred, shaking her head. "I do not know how. I am frightfully awful with children. I fear I would drop her." Yet she gazed guiltily at the little one, gnawing her lip, remembering...

"Pssh," Sandy said dismissively. "An extra pair of hands helps a lot, and I just lost my best babysitter. I imagine once Mae and Gwen's new house is finished, you and Nûrzgrat'll be back in business." She waggled her eyebrows suggestively, and Brytta blushed. "Sooner or later, you know. You keep going at it, and there'll be consequences," Sandy warned with a wink.

Rolling her eyes, Brytta couldn't help laughing. "I enjoy him... more than would likely be thought proper."

"I'm glad as hell you do," Sandy said seriously. "He is a fantastically good man. I know he'll make a great dad, too. All these kids love him, even if he's a little gruff at times. I've heard Ilsa call him 'nunca Nurz' a lot, but now that Ash is saying 'da,' I expect she'll grab that one herself."

Brytta nodded. "He is quite smitten with that little girl. Just as Ghru is with Hontor."

"Dads and their little girls," Sandy sighed, reminded of her own father. "I hope this one..." Her hand went to her belly briefly, then she blushed and hastily removed it. She adjusted Hontor in her arms a little to hide her gesture, but it was in vain.

Brows arching, Brytta whispered, "Are you...?"

Lowering her voice, Sandy said, "Don't say anything. It's just a hunch. A weird sort of... I think I might be, but I don't know for sure. So don't say anything. I don't want to get Morkoth's hopes up if I'm wrong."

A teasing smirk twitched Brytta's mouth. "Well, if holding a child is all it takes to ensure issue, then give her to me."

Laughing, Sandy shifted Hontor carefully into Brytta's arms. "Mind the head; you'll want to rest her in the crook... Yeah, like that. Quite an armful, isn't she?"

A lump formed in Brytta's throat as she gazed down at the infant. Only a month old, and already reaching up to touch this new face brought so close. Brytta found tears forming, and she sighed.

"Careful, there," Sandy grinned. Her own joy at the prospect of bearing another child of Morkoth's hid all but the look of like happiness on Brytta's face from Sandy's eyes. "I think I just heard you fire off an egg with both barrels."

* * *

"It's kind of the same, I think," Brianna said as she spooned porridge into a wooden bowl and set it on a small table. It was crudely built but serviceable, and a reminder for the Uruk-hai, at least, that they were not completely dependent upon the generosity of the Elves. "When I left for college, my parents acted like I'd just died."

Mae frowned. "What is college?"

"It's... oh hell," she muttered, sucking her finger where hot porridge dripped.

"Let me," the healer interjected, and took over serving. "Is it... a far away place?"

Brianna shrugged. "It can be. It's a kind of school, only for really advanced study. The one I went to was several states away from where my parents lived." Noticing the other woman's increasing confusion, Brianna elaborated, "About a thousand miles."

"Oh my!" Mae exclaimed, pausing with a dripping spoon held over the pot. "You went so far alone?"

"Well, sort of alone," Brie shrugged, and Mae resumed filling bowls. "I had a few friends who went as well."

"Was Sandy among them?"

"No," Brie replied, shaking her head. "We met after that. She went to a completely different college, a lot closer to her home. To be honest, I don't think her dad would have let her move _that_ far away, not then. He was a little pissed when she moved to the same town as my parents after graduation, instead of going back home. That's how we met." Brie grinned, remembering those days. "We were so damn different," she murmured, laughing a little.

Shaking herself, Brie glanced over at Raz for a moment, and her brow furrowed. "It's really hard saying good bye to someone you care about. Sandy's dad had done all he could to keep a really awful guy from taking another swing at his little girl, only to have her over-compensate the restraining order and leave the state entirely." Shrugging, she looked back at Mae and added, "But he could be a cop anywhere, so he followed her."

"Was this... I confess, by your coloring and complexion, I have had a difficult time guessing where you came from," Mae said, sitting on the log next to Brie. "Are your parents worried for you, I wonder?"

Sighing, Brie said, "I'm sure they are. I wouldn't be surprised if they were still... looking for us." She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. The subject had never once come up, and now... Well, she and her daughter were members of the clan; continuing to keep such a big secret would be deceitful.

"Sandy and I aren't from this world," Brie stated evenly. Mae blinked at her, confusion in her face. "Well, that's one explanation. The other is that we _are_, but we came back in time from some ridiculously far future. Regardless, the place we came from... _knows_ about this world, this time. What happened, what _will_ happen. Unfortunately, neither Sandy or I were... well-informed on that subject. Aware that the knowledge existed, but not really... knowledgeable."

A slight smile curved Brie's mouth, for Mae's was hanging open. "Yeah, it's a little... It's pretty rough, I know. Every now and then, both of us kind of... feel a little panicky. We had lives before we came here; we had things we were supposed to do, things we _wanted_ to do. We had families..." Her gaze drifted to Ghrulagûrz, chatting in low voices with the other two males. It wasn't something he often did, preferring her company or none at all. She felt inexplicably pleased that he was spending time with the others. It had been two years; surely he must trust them now?

Again, she shook herself. "We had families," she repeated. "My parents, Sandy's dad... they don't know what happened to us. We literally disappeared from our world without a trace. Both of us being only children in our families, I'm sure our parents took it hard. At least when I was in college, I could have driven those thousand miles home to see them, or they could have come to see me. It wasn't like... I'd fallen off the planet..."

Tears threatened, and Brianna bowed her head, sniffling quietly. Glad of the distraction from such a stunning revelation, Mae swiftly embraced the distraught woman.

"There now," she soothed. "You are here among friends, with a... a _new_ family. Surely that must comfort you."

"It does," Brianna nodded. She wiped her eyes with the kerchief Mae offered. "It's just... sometimes..."

"Grieve when you need to," Mae murmured, rocking Brie in her arms. "I am here."

Brianna indulged herself in a motherly embrace for a few minutes before straightening. "Anyway, I'm glad you're more worried about something other than Thakûf happening to Gwen. He really is a good boy, and I know he won't let anything happen to her."

"Strange as it is, I agree with you," Mae replied, an ironic smile on her face. "Were she in the company of a man like Serondaen, I would fear abuse at his hands. To imagine even a month ago that I might be _relieved_ that her suitor is an Orc..." She laughed, shaking her head in wonder. "They have shared a kiss, you know."

Brie's brow arched. "Really?" Huffing a little, she smirked, "Well, _that's_ a huge secret they've managed to keep from the rest of us! Did you catch them at it or something?"

"No, I have not borne witness to their intimacies," Mae smiled. "When he told me, he seemed to fear I would do him harm for having taken such a liberty with my daughter. In truth, I was more fearful that he'd..." Faltering, she looked away. That night still weighed heavily on her mind, the ugliness she saw and experienced first hand still causing shudders. "I was relieved by an innocent kiss, when my thoughts had conjured horrors..."

Brianna reached for Mae's hand. "I don't think there's a dishonest bone in Thakûf's body. Nor is he the kind of boy... _man_ who would hurt an innocent woman."

Mae nodded. "You are right; he is a man. Perhaps he bears the appearance of an Orc, but he is a man. A _young_ man, at that. One who is stricken with his first love." Smiling, she met Brie's gaze. "I believe Gwen is likewise afflicted."

"Well, if they can keep their hands to themselves long enough to talk," Brianna giggled, "this little trip could go one of two ways: either they'll hate each other, or they'll be more than just 'in love.'"

"Indeed," Mae agreed with a laugh. "Time is the true test, isn't it?"

"I don't mind saying I'm pulling for the latter," Brie pointed out. "Which one are you hoping for?"

"That is an easy answer," Mae beamed. "My hope is..."

"Get in the longhouse!" Nûrzgrat suddenly roared, startling the women. "Grab them whelps; move it!"

Brie rose swiftly to her feet and accepted Hontor into her arms as Sandy sprinted by to collect Ashmau.

"What is happening?" Mae asked fearfully.

"Nûrzgrat has picked up the scent of an Orc coming," Brytta growled fiercely, her sword already drawn. "Take Raz and Ilsa into the longhouse."

Sandy barely had Ashmau clamped to her bosom, an arm around a trembling Raz, and her sights set on the longhouse, when the trees between her and Brie's shelters parted. Brianna froze, clutching her daughter tight enough to urge a whimper from the child. Ilsa was collared by Mae and held close before the little girl could make a dash toward her safe place. All stood trembling behind the fierce Uruk males and Brytta, their swords out and feet apart in preparation for a fight, as the three figures emerged.

Two Elven men with grim expressions stepped into the clearing. Though their weapons were sheathed and they held up a hand in a gesture of peace, they each had a grip on an arm of a staggering, dark-skinned, brutish creature between them. Nûrzgrat slowly lowered his sword.

"What the fuck's _he_ doin' here?" the leader snarled. He waved down Morkoth and Ghru, who lowered their own weapons though both remained alert.

In answer, the Elves forced the Orc to his knees. Brytta stepped up beside Nûrzgrat, staring at the beaten Orc. His face looked quite like it had sustained a lengthy pummeling, for black blood caked his nose and ran down his chin. Both red-hued eyes were swollen and barely open. Yet they were clearly open enough for the Orc to recognize Nûrzgrat.

The Elves only allowed the Orc a moment to register who stood in front of him, his expression changing from defeated to shocked, before one of them planted a booted foot in the Orc's back and pushed him over. The Orc fell flat on his face with a groan.

"What is this all about?" Brytta asked suspiciously. "Why bring him here?"

"He knows the whereabouts of Faelur," one of the Elves announced. "We cannot extract this knowledge from him ourselves; we hoped you might have better luck."

"What do you mean... he knows...," Mae breathed, fear stealing her voice. She clutched Ilsa's shoulders tightly, making the little girl squirm. "What...?"

"What do you mean by 'whereabouts'?" Morkoth growled, his gaze shifting to the Orc. "He was bound for Rohan, then Gondor."

"I am afraid he did not make it out of Dunland," the second Elf said delicately. Mae whimpered and stared at him with wide eyes.

The Elf turned to Mae and bowed formally. "Apologies, madam. I am Faronhim, and this is Bronnaeg." His smooth complexion was slightly marred by a look of impatience clearly directed at his partner. "This Orc was seen in the company of others who... who captured your husband. He has been captive for weeks and we have only just caught up to one of those responsible..."

"Wait a fuckin' second," Nûrzgrat interrupted. Glaring at the prone Orc, he snarled, "Orcs got'im, and you're sayin' _he_ was with'em?"

"Yes," Bronnaeg replied coldly. "According to him, the man is still alive."

Nûrzgrat and Brytta exchanged looks of dread. "Shagal and Fulak," Brytta growled, her brow furrowing angrily. "It must be them."

Gripping his Elven sword tightly, Nûrzgrat spat, "_Fuck_."


	4. Oops, Didn't We Mention?

**Oops... Didn't We Mention?**

Sandy was the first one to recover from the shock and find the words to express what was on everyone's mind.

"How the _hell_ do you know their names?"

Brytta's face froze as she met Sandy's gaze. Then she darted a look at Nûrzgrat. He was no help; the embarrassed guilt was writ so large upon his expressive face, none could possibly miss it.

"I know you used to be an Orc hunter, Brytta," Sandy snapped. "Excuse me for not realizing you asked for their _names_ first!"

"I did not know them from before!" Brytta cried defensively. Feeling cornered and abandoned, for her suddenly cowardly mate was actually taking a step back from the center of attention, Brytta growled, "The truth is... we were beset by this one and his fellows... not two days' journey from here. We were... captured and held for... I do not know how many hours."

Now every head turned and every eye of the clan focused upon Nûrzgrat. Again, Sandy spoke for them all.

"Why didn't you fucking _say_ something?!" she all but shrieked in a fury.

"Nûrzgrat," Morkoth snarled, "there are Orcs a few leagues from our settlement and you said _nothing_?"

"Gwen... and Thakûf...," Mae breathed, her eyes wide with fear. She slowly lowered herself onto a log, trembling from head to toe.

"We told'em not to go south!" Nûrzgrat barked defensively. "Orcs keep a territory; they go north, they won't get in no trouble."

Brianna edged closer to the leader, her eyes imploring. "Nûrzgrat," she said tightly, "why didn't you tell us? Are we... are our _children_ in any danger?"

He'd never been a match for Brianna. Crumpling, Nûrzgrat muttered, "Don't know. Been keepin' an eye out... me and Brytta. Didn't think... they don't know where we came from, or where we were goin' to. Figured... if we saw'em..."

"You'd... take care of it," she supplied. "And we'd be none the wiser. Is that it?"

"Yeah," he conceded, bowing his head.

"What happened to you?" Brianna asked urgently.

"It's _over_," he snarled. "Over and fuckin' done with."

Brianna shook her head. "No, it's not. It's not over. Not if one of them is in our settlement, and they have Faelur. It is _not_ _over_."

"But... they let you go," Mae breathed, raising her streaming eyes. "They... they did you no harm and let you go. Didn't they?"

Nûrzgrat looked away, avoiding her gaze. Brytta sighed and said, "Not... much harm. Generally speaking. But Shagal struck him..."

"Let it fuckin' go," Nûrzgrat snapped, glowering at Brytta and curling his lip in a threatening manner. She glared at him.

"It _frightened_ me," she retorted. "I'd never seen anything like it." Turning to Brianna and Sandy, and pointedly ignoring her bristling mate, Brytta went on, "Shagal used a cudgel to keep him subdued. After we were released, he suffered... an attack of some sort. He collapsed in a faint and his body bucked wildly. He had no memory of it after."

"Oh my god," Brianna breathed, looking at Nûrzgrat in shock. Sandy was at a loss for words. "You had a seizure?"

"That... uh... that what you call it?" the leader muttered uncertainly. Recovering quickly, he huffed, "Wanna know why we didn't say nothin'? Cause it was fuckin' _embarrassin'_, all right? Took us _both_ unawares. Didn't smell'em comin', couldn't keep'em from doin' whatever the fuck they wanted. They coulda killed'er, coulda raped the fuck outta her, right in front of me, and I couldn't... I couldn't..." Squeezing his eyes shut, Nûrzgrat looked away. His face twitched with the effort to push back the remembered helplessness and fear. "She was my fuckin' _mate_. I couldn't... do... _nothin_'," he snarled tightly, his jaw clenched.

"It was terrifying," Brytta said quietly. She approached Nûrzgrat and touched his arm. "I thought all my debts had come due. Had it not been for Nûrzgrat..." He slowly raised his eyes to meet hers, and she smiled a little. "I could not have faced it, could not have _borne_ it, without you."

"While this is a lovely moment, I'm sure," Sandy interjected tightly, "the fact remains that these... Orc friends of yours have Faelur. I'm willing to postpone the ass-reaming you deserve for not telling us about them, if you'll _kindly_ share what you _do_ know. Is Faelur in danger?"

"Yes, please," Mae pleaded, her eyes darting between Brytta and Nûrzgrat. "Would they hurt him?"

Growling deep, Nûrzgrat marched over to the prone Orc playing opossum on the ground and dragged him up to his knees by the hair. "Why don'tcha ask _him_?"

Mae forced herself to step closer and look down into the bruised and bloody face. Red eyes peeked through swollen folds of flesh. This close, she could see neat slices made about his ears and neck, from which black blood seeped. His lower lip trembled as his breaths huffed fearfully.

"Tell me, please," she whispered. "Are they hurting him?"

He didn't answer for a moment. The Orc's eyes darted up to Nûrzgrat holding his head, then Brytta standing imperiously at Mae's side with her arms crossed over her chest. He feared their wrath more than that of the _golug-hai_.

Swallowing hard, he nodded. "Aye, they's hurtin'im. Sendin' Nardrît intuh holes with the screamin'."

Crying out in dismay, the woman swayed. Brytta caught and steadied her before she could fall.

"You damn well better tell us where they're holding him," Sandy snarled, stomping up closer. She'd quite forgotten she still held Ashmau; her son was cleaved sleepily and obliviously to her shoulder, uncaring what his parents were up to. The Orc's battered face softened, and his brows rose.

"Eh," he said quietly, a slight smile twitching his mouth, "that what a _baalak_ looks like, then?"

Startled, Sandy withdrew slightly, hugging her boy closer. "What... I don't know what that means."

"It means 'half-breed,'" Ghru snarled. He glared at the Orc as he put a protective arm about Brianna and a large hand on Hontor, just to be certain of their safety.

"Aaaww," the Orc crooned, struggling to stand so he could see the whelp better. Unsure what game this was, Nûrzgrat let him rise, but grabbed his arm instead. "Kraibûf done give me one'uh them girl pups a year ago. That's a lovely one, that is." Grinning up at Ghru's uncertain frown, he added, "Got her da in her a bit, I see."

"Shut yer noise," Nûrzgrat snarled, jerking the Orc back. Turning his fury on the Elves, the leader growled, "Had at him, did you? What'd he say?"

Faronhim avoided Nûrzgrat's provocative glare. "I confess we... we have not the... skills or... means to..."

"You have no stomach for torture," Morkoth said flatly. Though his voice was even and seemed benign, the Elf flinched nonetheless. He winced further as the Uruk added, "And you believe we do."

"Don't you?" Bronnaeg challenged.

"Got plenty of stomach for butcherin' smartass _golug-hai_," Nûrzgrat retorted. The Elf merely lifted his chin and stared down his nose at the Uruk leader with a smirk, clearly unimpressed. Leveling a clawed finger, Nûrzgrat growled, "Watch that shit, _golug_. We put up with yuh for the females' sake. You lot ain't welcome."

"Nûrzgrat," Brianna admonished quietly.

"Wait a second," Sandy said, closing her eyes for a moment to think. She held up a finger as though the gesture helped her do so. Then she opened her eyes and pointed at Faronhim. "How do you know Faelur came from here?"

Unexpectedly, the Elf's eyes widened, and he darted a guilty look at his partner. Bronnaeg glanced heavenward and looked away with annoyance. Swallowing, Faronhim moistened his lips nervously. "We... that is to say, the residents of this settlement are known by name and... and face... to all of the Lord and Lady's folk. We knew of..."

"No, you didn't," Sandy interrupted, shaking her head. "Unless you've got photographs or really damn good paintings, you can't know what we all look like. _We've_ never met _you_. This is the first time you've ever been here. Faelur was only here for a week or so. How could you have known who Faelur was _and_ where he came from?"

"Shocking as it seems," Bronnaeg sighed, "they appear to be capable of reason."

"Morkoth, fetch me a blade," Nûrzgrat warned, glaring at Bronnaeg. "Ain't fed on Elf before. I'm thinkin' I got a taste for it all of a sudden."

"_Nûrzgrat!_" Brianna and Brytta snapped in unison.

He didn't appear remotely contrite. "Answer the fuckin' question, _golug_!" Nûrzgrat barked.

Though the leader's ire was directed at Bronnaeg, the Elf refused to provide an answer. Faronhim took a deep breath and said haltingly, "In accordance with the Lady's wishes, we... have watched you. Your... comings and goings. We know you... and Faelur... because we have seen you... here. And... in the vicinity." He closed his eyes, anticipating an explosion.

Nûrzgrat's jaw worked soundlessly for a moment; his eyes twitched and blinked in shock. All he could muster in response at first was a strained, "What?"

"You have spied on us?" Morkoth asked incredulously, his brow deeply furrowed. "For how long?"

Treading carefully, Faronhim replied quietly, "Ever since... you were discovered here by Lord Celeborn and Lady Galadriel." His voice diminished further as he concluded, "Two years."

"Two years," Nûrzgrat repeated tightly. "Two... fucking... _years_. How..." He had trouble breathing as the fury built. "You... how... Two _years_?!" he finally roared, his voice echoing off the cliff face behind the settlement. Hontor whimpered in Brianna's arms.

"Please," Faronhim interjected, doing his best to stave off any act of violence. The leader seemed about to come apart, he trembled so. "We have not watched every movement within your settlement, I assure you. We keep a respectful distance. It is not your activities we are concerned about."

"We've no interest in them, if that is any comfort," Bronnaeg pointed out, earning another impatient huff from his partner.

"Not much of one," Sandy snapped, exchanging an angry look with Brianna. "Back where we come from, that sort of shit gets your ass arrested. Assuming you weren't hiding up a tree taking pictures of us while we bathed, just what in hell _were_ you doing?"

"Madam," Faronhim said with what dignity he could still claim under the circumstances, "we most assuredly did not witness your private ablutions. We are _marchwardens_, not common soldiers. Our purpose is to guard your folk, not... specifically... _spy_ on you." He glanced at Morkoth, whose frown only deepened.

"What are you guarding us from?" the tall Uruk snarled, folding his arms over his chest.

As if the light dawned, Brytta answered for the Elf. "Orc hunters," she said. "That's right, isn't it? You guard us from Orc hunters?"

Faronhim nodded with relief. "Yes, we do. Their like, or any who wander too close. We divert their path; give them reason to be elsewhere." Glancing at Razkaar and Ilsa in turn, he added, "We have been especially watchful of your younger ones, to ensure they did not stray beyond the perimeter."

"How'd you do that?" Raz asked. The little girl, once loosed from Mae's grip, fled to Razkaar. He huddled with her by the fire, feeling inexplicably relieved though tensions were high all around him.

"Distractions," the Elf replied. "A sound, a scent. Something of interest that will turn your steps in another direction."

"What about us?" Morkoth growled. "We hunt far and wide. Do you distract us as well?"

Shaking his head, Faronhim said, "No. We... recognize that... you require a broad range for hunting, and do not hinder you. It is only the young ones we are mindful of, for they are more vulnerable." Smiling a little, he said, "You and your fellows are older and wiser, more skilled in battle should you encounter... trouble."

"What do you do when Orc hunters approach?" Brytta asked, her eyes narrowing.

"We give them reason to be elsewhere, as Faronhim has already said," Bronnaeg replied. Noting further confusion, he sighed. "We use similar methods: sound and shadow, mostly, for scent has little effect on Men. An implication of something sinister and inexplicable is usually sufficient to urge their steps in another direction." Shrugging and smirking, he added, "Simplicity is all that is required, for Men are simple minded."

"Right," Sandy snapped, beginning to see Nûrzgrat's point of view with this Elf at least. "I guess every race has at least _one_ asshole. Congratulations: you win the crown for yours." Bronnaeg merely shrugged.

"How many of you fuckers are out there?" Nûrzgrat snapped, finding his voice again. "Just you two?"

Faronhim had known the Orcs wouldn't take this news well, and so didn't bristle particularly at Nûrzgrat's words. "There are, at any one time, a dozen of us, ranged in a perimeter about your settlement. We take it in shifts, a month or so at a time."

"A _dozen_?" Nûrzgrat barked. "How the fuck have we not smelled your filthy _golug_ stench all this time?" Brianna winced and rubbed her eyes, but decided not to say anything. There really wasn't anything she _could_ say to stem the tide of Nûrzgrat's anger. For once, it was entirely justified.

"Our folk have hunted Orcs for thousands of years," Bronnaeg sneered. "It is no hardship to fool an Orc's senses. _Yours_, being less acute than your cousins', are even easier to fool."

"This... 'perimeter' you keep," Brytta growled, laying a hand on Nûrzgrat's arm to stay his indignant retort, "how wide would you say it is? Will I learn that while my fellows were being_ butchered_ in defense of Mae's family, you and your 'guards' stood idly by, doing _nothing_?"

"I assure you," Faronhim cried desperately, "that had any of us seen such a thing, we would have come to your aid. I have not heard any who saw aught but Nûrzgrat returning with the four of you. But what aid we might have given... I cannot say. We are spread thin. As it was, when I saw Faelur taken, I was alone and could not safely aid him without endangering his life in the attempt. I hastened to the nearest of my folk to seek assistance, but by the time Bronnaeg and I returned..." He gestured helplessly. "They had gone, leaving no trace. We have stood vigil, patrolling the area in hopes one would emerge and so lead us to where they held him, or at least give some news of his fate. It was weeks before we caught sight of this one."

"You say... he is alive," Mae said shakily. "This Orc... has said as much."

"Yes," Faronhim nodded, grateful for the change of subject. "We have no reason to doubt that, at least. What we cannot seem to urge him to divulge is the location of these caves in which Faelur is being held." As though remembering the earlier conversation, Faronhim risked all by turning to Nûrzgrat. "Do you know where the entrance lies? You were taken by them yourself; did you note...?"

"_No_," Nûrzgrat barked, and the Elf recoiled. "We were blindfolded goin' in, and knocked senseless goin' out. I got no idea how you get into their den." Rounding on the Orc, he once more grabbed the shorter one by the hair and forced the Orc to look him in the eye. "You're gonna tell me, though, ain'tcha?"

The Orc gave no answer. Though he trembled in fear, and pain inflicted by the Elves made him twitch and flinch, he said nothing.

"Please," Mae said, approaching the Orc again. "Tell us. He was my mate. We want him back. That is all. Can you not help us? Please?"

Looking into the woman's shimmering eyes, the Orc faltered in his defiance. In truth, a great deal of his bluster had been quelled at the Elves' hands. More importantly, his thoughts were strongly with another female who meant a great deal to him, one he feared never to see again.

"Can't," he muttered, his tone pleading. "_Golug-hai_'ll come and kill all of'em. Even the little'uns. 'S'what they do."

"Do you have a mate?" Mae asked. "And... little ones?"

"Aye," he nodded. "Kraibûf. She's... she's whelpin' another'un for me. From me." His swollen lips trembled. "Ain't gonna see it come now, am I?"

The healer shook her head. "He was my mate. We have... our own... whelp. Can't you... won't you _please_...?"

Nûrzgrat met Brytta's eyes, and she nodded. Firming his resolve, the leader interrupted, "What's yer name, boy?"

Flinching as though the question were an attack, the Orc muttered, "Burbur."

"Oh yes," Brytta said. "I remember now. Akhûna called you by that name."

"And Akhûna is...?" Sandy growled, but Nûrzgrat held up a warning hand.

"Here's the way it's gonna go, Burbur," Nûrzgrat said evenly. "You're gonna lead us in, you got that? You help us get him out, and we'll let you go. Understand?"

Burbur shook his head vigorously. "I _can't_," he protested. "I lead a couple _golug-hai_ into the den and Akhûna'd skin me alive."

"You won't be leading _them_," Brytta clarified, shooting a hostile look at the pair of Elves. She wasn't convinced that they hadn't simply ignored what befell her and her fellows. "You will lead _us_: Nûrzgrat and I. We have a score to settle with Shagal and Fulak."

"You ain't... you ain't gonna hurt the little'uns, are yuh?" Burbur begged fearfully, his eyes darting between the two.

"I swear to you," Brytta said firmly, "we won't lay a hand on them. We only have business with those who are doing Faelur harm." Glaring at Bronnaeg, she added, "I trust our clanmates will see to it these... _Elves_ do not follow us."

"It's just them two, ain't it?" Nûrzgrat growled. "Shagal and Fulak, right? Nobody else?"

Burbur shook his head. "You're gonna kill'em, ain't yuh?"

Nûrzgrat might have nodded in the affirmative, but Brytta laid a hand on his arm. "We make no promises, one way or another. Show us the entrance, guide our way in, and we shall see what must be done."


End file.
